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ffiY FIRST POEMS 



(DY FI RST 00 E M S 



'By 
MARGARET HUNTINGTON 

[1916] 



LOS ANGELES 

the FRED S. LANG COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 1916 

"B V Margaret Huntington 



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m 19 1917 

©ClA4n3693 



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HIS Book is one of a truly ^^ Limited 

Edition ' ' of the little Author'' s poems. 

^ "^^^ ^ -' . 

written when she was seven and ei^ht 
years of age. We trust the reader will 
enjoy the contents almost as much as did 

Her Loving Father and Mother. 



Index 

THE BRIGHT SUN / 

THE SONG OF THE TREES // 

THE MOON /// 

THE WIND ly 

SPRING y 

THE FLOWER HOUSES VI 

THE DOVES yii 

THE WORLD'S BEAUTIES VIII 

THE LAMBS /X 

LENT X 

THANKSGIVING xi 

GRANDMOTHER'S BIRTHDAY XII 



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©HE ©RIGHT ©UN 

HE sun awakes at early dawn 

And never did I see him mourn, 
For his bright face is always light 

As 'round the world he turns in flight. 

He wakes the birds, and flowers, too, 
And little children just like you; 

He gives the world a sunny light 

And all the dull things, he makes bright. 

And on a very rainy day 

He says to the clouds in a very cross way, 
^Tm going to push with all my might 

And give the world a bit of light." 



[/] 



©HE @ONG OF C5HE ©REES 

[fTritten for St. NICHOLAS LeAGUe] 



T 



HEAR the song of the trees 

In the soft morning breeze. 
The rustHng of their bright leaves 

Makes music one ne'er beheves 
Could come from Nature's voice, 

So sweet is it, so clear, so choice. 
For the lovely new leaves 

Of the redwood trees 
Clap their hands in glee 

Because they are so free. 
They swing their branches to and fro 

In the soft west winds that blow, 
And say to the world with its throng: 

^^O listen to my peaceful song!" 







GHE CQOON 

OD made the moon, so it could light 
Through all the long, long night. 
I think rd like to be the moon. 
And roam about the sky 
Till all the bright stars die. 



[///] 



©' 



©HE ®IND 

HE wind whistles softly in the night 

When the stars shine in the heavens bright, 
You hear it sing for miles away ; 
Listen now, and you'll hear it say: 
^'O! let me play, let me play." 
It sings the curly-headed baby to sleep 
And wakes it from its slumber deep. 



[/^] 



I 



SPRING 

N the winter I was lonely 

On a cold and frosty day; 
But O joy! The spring has come 
With its flowers, bright and gay. 

And I wish they would stay always, 
With the birds that sing their lays; 

Now I'll climb the shady bowers, 
That are filled with blooming flowers. 



IV-] 



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©HE fTLOWER QOUSES 

AM growing pretty flowers ; 

They look like steeples and towers. 
Bees and butterflies to them fly 
And in the buds and petals lie. 
Then to the flowers they say ^' Good-by 
And to their homes they happily fly. 



[vn 



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©HE OOVES 

HROUGH meadow and vale, 
Down hill and dale, 
My lovey doves flitter 
Their wings all aglitter. 

My mother says: ''Go catch them, dear, 
And try to bring them here." 

I ran so fast and so far. 
That I had to come home in the car. 



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©HE WORLD'S ©EAUTIES 

LOVE the beauties of the world, 
The flowers and trees around it curled. 
O! how I love to walk by the stream! 
O! how the little ripples gleam! 
I love to watch the birds in the sky ; 
It seems as tho they'd never die. 
And at night-time when the moon is out 
I cannot help having a little doubt 
That it is made of pure gold, 
Even tho I have been told. 
And O! how dark would be the night 
If the stars gave us no light! 
And the beauties which come in my dreams 
Are flowers, trees, birds and gentle streams, 

[ VIII ] 



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©HE nAMBS 

pWN in the meadow so green and fair, 

The shepherd keeps such watchful care 
Of the lambs so fleecy white, 
That they never leave his sight. 

The little lambs seem so dear 
That his faithful listening ear 

Is always open to hear their cry. 
For he always stands close by. 



[/X] 



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KENT 

HIS is the holy time of Lent 

When we learn of Jesus, who was sent 
To teach the people on the earth 
Of the Saviour's life and birth. 

He told the old, He told the young 
To listen to His holy tongue. 

And He would be their guide and friend. 
And all their faults He'd surely mend. 



iX^ 



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GHANKSGIVING 

HANKSGIVING is a happy day, 
When tired folks try to be gay. 
There ought not to be a sigh, 
When those who love us are close by. 

When the pilgrims landed, safe and sound, 
Upon the earth, the solid ground, 
They thanked and prayed and showed their love 
To Him who rules the Heavens above. 

Pm thankful for so many things — 
Books, games and toys, and a bird that sings. 
Just think of the children that are sick and sad. 
Who have not very much to make them glad! 

Give away all that you can spare, 
Even your treasures that are rare. 
And in return, some sunny day, 
You'll see what comes around your way. 



GRANDMOTHER'S ©IRTHDAY 



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N a lovely April day 

Comes grandmother's birthday; 
And I hope you will have a merry one, 
With lots of joy, and lots of fun. 

I wish I could be by your side, 

But we are apart so wide. 
That I am sending you this greeting. 

And I hope it will seem like a meeting, 

And now, a happy birthday to you ; 

I hope your presents will not be few. 
And the days of the new year full of joy. 

Without a care to you annoy. 



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